


A Torrid Affair

by runawaygypsy



Category: Crimson Peak - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Adultery, F/M, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaygypsy/pseuds/runawaygypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I am not sure if I just want to leave this as is or continue on with it... what do you think?</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure if I just want to leave this as is or continue on with it... what do you think?

I am not sure what I was expecting going to Comic Con this year. I guess maybe that I would get to go to some awesome panels, maybe meet a celebrity or two and play fan girl. My husband and I drove down with some friends and were splitting the cost of a hotel room with them, and it was a blast. But, I didn't expect it to change the entire course of my life as I knew it.

Our first day there, I was in awe of how huge it actually was, nothing like the regional ones I had been to. It felt like the big leagues. We sat down for a while prior to anything major happening and mapped out which panels we would be going to, estimating the times we would spend in line, coordinating so we were tag-teaming, that no one person would be standing in the line the whole time, but there were a couple discrepancies. On the afternoon of day one, I wanted to see the Crimson Peak panel, not only because of the cast but also because Guillermo Del Toro was one of my favorite directors, while my husband and our friends wanted to see the Doctor Who panel; they were both at the same time. We agreed that, just this one time, we would go to separate ones. 

I had no idea who all would be there, but I'd hear rumors, mostly online, and I was excited enough to go total fan girl and wear a Loki shirt in hopes that the rumors were true. I was able to get a great spot in line, which, in-turn let me get a great seat once we were all let into the hall, and the wait wasn't as long as I'd expected, probably because I'd brought along my tablet and was engrossed in a book for the majority of it. 

The lights were dimmed on the audience and the people involved in the panel came out and sat at a long table on stage, waiting to be introduced to the crowd. I squinted into the lights and there he was. He stretched his long legs out from under the table and leaned back in his chair before resting his elbows on the table. He was flanked on either side by other cast members and nodded his head with a casual smile as they chattered around him. I was rapt. 

As the introductions were made, each of them stood and waved at the audience. Doug Jones, Mia Wasikowska, Charlie Hunnam, Tom Hiddleston, Jim Beaver, Jessica Chastain and Guillermo Del Toro. And for each introduction, the audience cheered. 

I had it in my mind that I wanted to ask a question and was one of the first plucked form the audience for that honor. Strangely, I was not petrified, nervous, yes, but oddly at ease. In my mind, I rehearsed what I wanted to say, what I wanted to ask, and when I finally stepped up to the mic, I took a deep breath and grinned. I introduced myself and said, “I actually have three things, if that's alright?” I saw the panel director nod and give me the thumbs-up, so I continued. “First, I want to tell Doug Jones, I think you're awesome and you, to me, are like a modern day Lon Chaney.” 

There was a smattering of applause as Doug Jones smiled and said, “Thank you, that's a wonderful compliment.”

“Second,” I reprised, “Jim Beaver, I'm a huge fan, still miss you as Bobby and loved all your behind the scenes tweets. Those made me look even more forward to this film.”

More clapping, some in the crowd agreeing with me, and Jim nodded, “It was my pleasure.” 

Looking at Guillermo Del Toro, I began my actual question. “Guillermo, your films are so different from anything that Hollywood is producing and always refreshing. What inspires you to create these films in the way you do?”

I know he answered me, and that I nodded and smiled at all the right places, but my attention had been pulled away to Tom, who was summoning one of the stage hands. When the audience applauded once more, I thanked them and made my way back to my seat to listen to the remainder of the panel.

Before it was over, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see the stage hand Tom had been speaking with. “Excuse me, Miss,” he whispered. “I've been asked to bring you backstage.” I was suddenly numb, my heart pounding. I nodded and followed him, excusing myself to the people that I needed to walk in front of. He got to the end of the aisle and beckoned me through a door very nearly hidden my the side of the stage. Once inside, he clipped a tag to my badge and directed me down a hallway. “Stay there until you are sent for again,” he instructed.

I leaned back against the wall and realized I was directly behind the stage, that I could see the lights, the silhouettes of the stars, hear everything that was going on. Of course, most of the questions were directed at Tom and Jessica,being the two major stars of the movie. 

When I heard the final thanks and the furious applause from the audience, I straightened my posture and stood at attention. There was a curtain across from me, hiding the stairs from the stage and from this curtain emerged first Guillermo Del Toro. “Ah!” he exclaimed upon seeing me, “That was an excellent question.” I asked him to autograph my program, which he obligingly did before continuing down the hallway towards the dressing rooms. The same process followed suit with each of the actors; first there was a cordial greeting, a smile, an autograph, and they would continue down the corridor. Until Tom.

He stepped out from the curtain and zeroed in on me, a smile that reminded me of a big cat looking at its prey. “I bet you're wondering what you're doing here?” he asked.

“Actually, yes,” I managed to answer as he leaned both hands on either side of me on the wall.

At that moment, my phone rang. “Excuse me,” I said, turning to answer it. It was my husband, wondering where I was, when the panel would be done. I'm sure all Tom could hear was my irritated answers. “Panel is almost done. I'm still here. Well, why don't you get something to eat then. Yes, I will meet you later.” 

“Who was that?” He seemed miffed that I would take a call n the midst of him talking with me.

As I put my phone away, I answered, “My husband.” I rolled my eyes and huffed in exasperation.

Tom seemed crestfallen. “Oh,” he said, “I should probably let you go to him, then.”

I shook my head. “Not necessarily.” I winked at him, my nerves suddenly turning into flirtatiousness. “Now about the reason I'm here...”

Remembering himself, Tom grinned again. “Oh yes, you are here because you piqued my curiosity. Why did you comment on the lesser known performers?”

I leaned my head back against the wall and shrugged. “Well, for one thing, why does it matter?”

“I expected a question from you...” he motioned to my shirt. “You're obviously a fan.” 

“Well, yes,” I agreed. “And you are the reason I am here now, but, honestly, I've been a fan of theirs for years longer and felt that I needed to address that more.”

Tom seemed satisfied with my answer and relaxed. He moved next to me and leaned against the wall with his side. “Your husband is a lucky man,” he sighed.

“I guess so,” I shrugged. “He's actually probably fan-boying over Karen Gillan at the moment. He has his crushes, I have mine.”

I looked directly up at Tom, just in time to see him smile again, not the animalistic smile he'd had emerging from the stage, not the grin that says he's just having fun with you and shouldn't be taken seriously, but the smile that I had seen hundreds of times in interviews and on Tumblr. It was the hooded, eye sweep, lip lick, soft smile that seemed to be specifically tooled by him to make the panties of the recipient self-immolate within a fraction of a second. “So, you have some time, then?”

My mind was in a heady fog now, everything erased but him. “Yeah, I do.”

Tom grasped my left hand with his and ran his thumb over the gold band on my ring finger. My breath caught as his touch sent a jolt through me. “All the best ones are...” he whispered before bringing my hand up to his mouth and kissing the back of it softly. My heart was fluttering every bit as much as I had expected it to during the panel and I'm sure a helpless whimper escaped my lips because before I knew it, Tom had dropped my hand and his lips were on mine. I had never been kissed like that before, so tenderly, yet with such passion. His arms wrapped around me and held me there, pulling me closer to him, against his chest. He enveloped me. 

When he finally let me go, his face turned swiftly red with embarrassment and he covered his mouth. “I am so, so, so sorry,” he gushed. “You're married, I shouldn't have done that.”

I chuckled. He looked at me quizzically, one eyebrow cocked as if to ask what was so funny. “I've always joked that if there was one man I'd leave my husband for, it would be you. Incidentally, you're my free pass.”

“Free pass?” He crossed his arms over his chest and his expression changed from one of confused amusement to one of guarded cynicism. “What's that?”

I took his hand and tried to untie the knot that was his arms. “Well,” I answered, “A free pass is that one celebrity that it's okay to hook up with, should the opportunity present itself. It's meant more as a 'What if' scenario, but usually really impossible.”

He loosened his arms and held my hand again. “Free pass?” he said thoughtfully, “So, this is alright, then?”

“It is,” I answered, pulling him towards me and kissing him back.

Tom and I were herded from the hallway by the stage crew, getting it ready for the next round of panelists. He kept hold of my hand and swept me down the corridor and into the dressing rooms. Once secluded in a more private area, he was upon me once again. Hungrily, his mouth covered mine, teeth biting at my lower lip, hands running down my back, grasping my ass and squeezing as he pulled me ever tighter against him. I could feel him hardening through his slacks. When he emerged for a breath, he whispered, “Let me know if this isn't okay.”

“Do I need a safe word?” I asked.

“Do you want one?” he growled. “Do you want me to be that bad guy and dominate you?”

The tone in his voice made me instantly wet, my nether regions dripping with anticipation. I nodded. “Chocolate.”

Tom grinned. He glanced around at the surroundings and spied a wooden chair. He backed towards it and pulled me with him, laying me face down across his lap. His hand caressed my leg for a moment, then ran up my thigh, leaving delicious trails of electricity and goosebumps behind them. He flipped my skirt up and slid his hand into the back of my panties, sliding the silky fabric down until he bade me to kick off my shoes so he could remove them completely. 

I could see nothing going on, feel nothing save the cool air blowing against my sex from the window AC unit. “You are a naughty girl, aren't you?” he asked, his voice thick and gruff.

“I am definitely a naughty girl,” I sniggered, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the role-playing perspective. With a decisive smack, I felt the entirety of his large hand clap across my backside. It stung for a moment, then tingled to a heat that grew into my core. 

“You're laughing and need to be punished.” Another smack, this one harder. “That's what we do to naughty girls.” Another smack, but for this one, he raised his knee by resting his foot on the bottom rung of the chair, hoisting my whole back end into the air. The third spank came squarely against my sex, hitting my cheeks only because they flanked it. 

I moaned, feeling the burning rise into my entire being. I was sure my skin was red and held the impression of his hand print on my backside. I squirmed against him as his fingers delicately traced where his hand had been. “I think I've still got a bit of naughtiness left,” I retorted, my voice ragged. I was rewarded with another, more forceful swat to the behind that stung more than all the others combined and brought tears to my eyes. I groaned at the intensity and was rewarded with another. “I think you're rather enjoying this,” I managed.

Tom guffawed. “I am the bad guy,” he trilled. Another swat and I was out of breath, gasping against him, writhing as the heat in my loins became unbearable. “And you, my naughty girl, won't get any satisfaction until I say you can.” He stood me up and spun me around, my blistered backside on display as he yanked my skirt down. I felt the warm softness of his lips as he kissed the area where his hand had been. It only stirred my needs more. His hands held my hips into place until he pulled one back. One languid index finger traced the red palm prints on my skin, then ventured between my legs, delving into my folds. I groaned as he crooked it, caressing me from the inside, slowly, methodically. I reached down to stroke my clit, hoping for some relief of the pressure that was building and he immediately grasped that hand and wrenched it behind me. “Not yet.” 

I tried to sneak the other hand down, first crooking it under my shirt and releasing my bra, then fondling myself, which made him hum in approval. Carefully, I slid it further down, past my navel, and had almost gotten it where I needed when I felt him pull his finger from inside me. He snatched that hand away as well and wrenched it back with the other one. “Tsk, such a bad girl,” he shook his head. I felt him secure both my hands with one of his, felt him move, heard him struggling with an article of clothing before feeling the silk of his red tie tighten around one of my wrists. “Put your hands over your head, Darling,” he instructed coolly. I did as I was told and felt him secure the other wrist with what was left. He pulled me to the back of the door, where there was a large hook meant for hanging clothing. He hoisted me up and hooked the tie over it, leaving me half naked and dangling. “I should just leave you there,” he growled.

“I don't think you want to do that,” I purred, pushing out my hips towards him. 

Another feral grin and he was on full attack, one hand grasping possessively over my mound, squeezing my sex, while the other kneaded my breast under my shirt. His mouth was hungrily feeding on my own, tongues sliding against one another, breath caught, lips raw. I had forgotten all other than him in that moment. I tried to push up against him, to rub against his palm, but he held me fast. He was working his way down my neck, biting, sucking, kissing, working me into even more of a frenzy, then pulled my shirt up to my neck and began suckling on one of my already hardened nipples. He scraped over it with his teeth, making my hips buck and a mewl escape. He switches sides and did the same. 

My voice was ragged from the heavy breaths and moans I had been producing. “Oh, God, Tom,” I whined roughly. He pulled away from me and stood watching his handiwork. I felt like the next time he touched me, I would explode like an overfilled water balloon full of boiling water. 

He reverted out of his bad guy routine for just a moment. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he asked sincerely.

I groaned. “I'm half naked, horny and hung on a door, what do you think?”

His sweet smile curved into a mischievous one. “Alright, then,” he growled as he undressed, carefully unbuttoning the shirt that, had I not been strung up, would have ripped the buttons off of in a frenzy. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down, leaning over so I had no view of the coming attraction. He kicked off his shoes and slid his pants off, picking them up and setting them neatly on the chair with his shirt.

I caught a glimpse of his bare backside. “No undies?” I said, cocking my head.

“Not today,” he answered, his voice echoing off the wall. “Now, close your eyes.”

My eyes were closed, but every other sense was more alert. I waited and felt the soft flutter of his touch on my skin, then the tip of his tongue as he flicked it at my breasts, trailed it down over my stomach and delved it into my sex, swirling it around my excited bud. 

I was right. This touch, this gentle, soft, touch began to send me over the edge. I pushed my hips out towards him, pressing my feet against the door and using it as leverage. Each stroke lent itself to another sigh, another moan, my cadences getting stronger until I was nearly at my peak when he stopped. 

Tom stood up and pressed himself against me, pinning me between his body and the door. I could feel his hardness pressing against me, and I longed for him to be inside me. Gently, he grasped each one of my legs and pulled them up around his hips, angling himself right at my entrance before forcing his way inside. 

My body was on fire, my embers stoked by him as he filled me with his entire length. “Damn,” was all I could manage before he pulled himself nearly the entire way out. My hips tried to follow and my legs tried to hold him there. He thrust in again, sheathing himself with me, then gyrated his hips. “Oh god, I dreamed about these snake hips,” I snarled lustily.

“Oh, did you?” he did it again, his every move inciting me back towards the edge. His face said wicked, but his eyes were tender.

With each pulse, every movement, I became more and more lost, my body belonging to no one but him, not even myself, as I felt myself evaporating, my entire being consumed by him in an undulating miasma of pleasure. Until I was completely gone, transformed from my own being into an angel, his angel, ethereal, gossamer, panting, pumping, screaming his name like it was the only prayer on my lip.

As my walls closed around him, I felt his cock twitch, his own thrusts gaining power, speed, until bursting forth with the hot stream of his cum, his motions triggering one more stanza to my own orgasm, our bodies in perfect sync until we had worn each other down. 

He reached up and untied me, letting my arms fall around his shoulders, and kissed me tenderly as he set me down. “That was wonderful,” he whispered. 

I leaned my head back against the door. “I can't believe we just did that...” I began, just as my cell phone rang. I froze, then jumped to grab my bag and retrieve it. “It's my husband,” I squeaked, suddenly feeling self conscious. “Hey,” I answered nonchalantly. 

Tom clamped his mouth shut and began getting dressed. 

“Yeah, panel's done.” I was answering as I watched him. “OK, I'll meet you by the door.” I hung up and grabbed my clothing. “I've gotta go,” I said, casting a longing look at Tom as I put them back on.

He nodded. “I know.” He wrapped me in his arms and breathed in. “I'd like to see you again,” he said.

“I'm not sure that's possible,” I answered, my eyes filling with tears.

“How long are you here?”

I sighed. “All week.” I leaned against his chest and heard his heart beat. “I can give you my number, if you'd like.”

“I would like that,” he answered, letting me go and pulling his cell phone out of his pants pocket. He handed it to me and I typed in my number. 

I turned to leave the room, my hand hesitating on the door handle. “Goodbye, Tom.”

“Wait!” He stopped me, kissed me one more time, passion oozing from every pore. “Did you really mean what you said?”

“What?” My mind was still in a haze.

“That you'd leave your husband for me?” His eyes held such great expectation in them.  
“Yes, I did.” I needed to leave, I felt the pressing urgency to do so, but he kept pulling me back to him. “But, that was when you were just a fantasy.”

“What about now?” I wanted so much to just pull him back into my arms and never leave.

I nodded. “Even more so.” I opened the door and went into the cool silence of the hallway. “Goodbye, Tom.” I let the door close with a thud behind me, aware that if I didn't leave at that moment, I wouldn't leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand & the fact that my own imagination wouldn't leave it, this has now become a Multi-chapter saga.

I somehow managed to navigate my way through the backstage maze and find my way to the convention floor. My mouth was dry and my heart was pounding the entire time, and by the time I found the door where I was supposed to be meet my husband, I was out of breath and exhausted. 

My eyes scanned the concourse, looking for the telltale football team hat, bobbing above the crowd. Instead, I was surprised by a pair of arms grabbing me from behind. “Mmmm,” he mumbled in my ear, “You smell like a lucky woman.”

I froze. “What do you mean?” My time with Tom flashed before my eyes and all I could think was that he knew, somehow.

Laughing, my husband answered, “You happen to be married to the man who has won dinner for the evening.”

I sighed. “That's great, honey.” I wriggled loose of his arms. “Where are we eating?” 

“Chart House, it's seafood!” He smiled, a knowing glint in his eye. He knew I loved seafood.

“Sounds delicious!” I gave him the best smile I could. “When do you want to eat?”

He checked the clock on his cell phone. “Well, I've gone ahead and made reservations for seven, and the cab will be here at six thirty. It's about five now, so we should probably get ready back now. I know how long it takes you to get ready.

Looking around, I asked about our friends. “They have their own dinner plans tonight.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd and down the street to our hotel.

The night was a blur. I'm sure my husband was never suspicious of anything as I tried extra hard to be affectionate and attentive, even laughed at his stupid jokes during dinner. Since he didn't have to drive, he downed several beers and was jovial as we left, pawing at me and drunkenly kissing me in the cab. 

Our friends had not yet arrived back to the room and it was dark as we opened the door. “Feel like having a little fun?” he slurred. I really didn't, Tom was still completely on my mind and I was still afraid that he would sense something had happened, but I acquiesced. I watched as my husband undressed and then took my own clothes off, shoving them in my suitcase. He turned off the light as I laid down, then threw an arm over me and squeezed my breast. “You're sexy,” he groaned, kissing my neck with slobbery lips. 

I reached down and touched myself, hoping I could at least bring myself to arousal and enjoy the moment. With each touch, each swirl of my own finger, I saw Tom, my body remembering his touch and aching for it. I moaned at the thought and my husband took it as a sign I was ready for him. He rolled on top of me and skewered me, grunting and thrusting for a few minutes before quickly finishing and rolling off of me. Sleepily, he rubbed my head. “Goodnight, honey.”

I was left there in the bed with him, yet feeling more alone than I ever had. Tears welled in my eyes and my chest felt completely empty. I needed to get out of the room. “I'm going to go for a swim,” I whispered.”

“OK,” I heard him answer as I changed into my swimsuit. It was a blue and white tankini, revealing a little, mostly modest, but fit me like a glove. I slid a robe over my shoulders, the only thing I could find other than a towel to cover up with for my walk to the pool. I brushed my hair and twisted it into a messy bun on top of my head, then slid on my flip flops and grabbed my card key before silently leaving the room.

My mood lifted instantly as I heard the door latch shut. I backed towards the opposite side of the hallway and leaned against the cool wallpaper. It was the first time that night I had dared to breathe. 

The pool area was on the same level of the hotel as my room and, with a few wrong turns, I managed to make it. The large room was bright and airy, filled with tropical plants, almost like an oversized terrarium and I discovered that not only was there a pool, but also a hot tub and a sauna, and suddenly, the wanting to feel the cool water was usurped by the desire to lay down in a plethora of steam and sweat out the evening. It seemed I had the area to myself, but I knocked on the door of the sauna just to be sure I wouldn't interrupt anyone. It, too, was vacant. Sighing in relief, I opened the door, turned on the gas-powered lava rocks and poured a containerful of water from the spigot on the wall over it. Within minutes, it was filled with steam. 

I laid a towel I had gotten from the rack by the pool on the plank seat, hung my robe up on the hook on the wall and laid down on the towel. I closed my eyes and listened to the steam hiss, its very sound a salve as I tried to clear my mind of the events of the day. 

My mind tried to stop racing, but I was confused. My husband and I had been through so much together and I really did love him, but, after my time with Tom, I began to wonder how strong that bond really was. Follow that up with the sloppy sex, the inattentiveness to my own needs, the abandonment I felt after, and my world was in a tailspin. 

Eventually, I was able to focus my mind, meditating like I had been taught in yoga class, clearing my mind and taking myself elsewhere. In this case, my happy place was the Big Island of Hawaii, lying on the beach, swimming in the ocean, drinking pina coladas. I was midway through my second meditational drink when I heard a light rapping on the door. It cracked open. “Is it alright if I come in?” I heard a deep voice ask softly. 

Without a hint of recognition, I answered, “Yeah, it's just me, there's room.” I peeked as a figure emerged through the mist, tall, lithe. Closing my eyes again, I sighed.

He sat down next to me. “Fancy seeing you here,” he grinned.

I sat bolt upright, my eyes snapping open. “Tom? What... what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He pulled out his card key. “Room 657.”

I fished my own out of my robe pocket. “Room 235,” I laughed. “Who would have imagined we'd be in the same hotel?” Suddenly, any apprehension I had melted away. I didn't need my happy place, I needed this. Before I could even register it, Tom's lips were upon mine, his fingers brushing softly against my cheek.

“My God,” he exclaimed between kisses, “I've been able to think of nothing but you all day.”

“That's dangerous,” I answered, by body language belying my words. “I'm married. What if my husband were to come in here.”

Tom pulled me closer. “I would hazard a guess that he trusts you enough to let you come here unsupervised, either that or you left him drunk and snoring.” His last comment bit right at my conscience and I flinched. “Ooh, it was the last thing, wasn't it?” He gave me a sheepish grin.

“Unfortunately, yes.” I shrugged. “It's kind of a tender subject with me.” 

Tom's fingers continued to caress my skin. “Tell me about it, darling.” He looked concerned.

“I don't know why you are concerned about my marriage...” I began.

He smiled. “Because you obviously are. I don't want our little tryst this afternoon ruin your marriage if that's what you are worried about. I'm prepared to keep our relationship strictly platonic, if that's what I need to do to be a part of your life.”

I gulped. He'd said, “Our relationship.” And he was being so considerate of the whole thing. “I'm honestly not sure what I want anymore,” I sighed. “My marriage has been on the outs for a while now.”

“Why is that?” He leaned back, his fingers tangling in my hair, his other hand rested on my thigh.

Leaning into him, I answered, “Well, the drinking is the biggest reason. He comes home drunk every night, and I know he loves me, but most of the time I get a wham bam thank you ma'am before he rolls over and passes out, while I'm left frustrated and alone.” Tears began to well up in my eyes as I searched Tom's. “I've never felt so alone.”

Tom embraced me, his long arms pulling me to him as the tears spilled out, hot and salty against his bare skin. “I'm so sorry,” he whispered into my hair. “A woman as beautiful as you should never be made to feel like that. Your husband doesn't know what's missing.” He lifted my chin upward, his lips softly landing on mine, working them gently.

My heart swooned. I grasped him, holding my arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of his skin, not wanting to let him go. “Oh, Tom,” I moaned, feeling every atom of my being tingle as he move from my mouth, down to my neck and felt his teeth tenderly graze my skin. “I couldn't stop thinking about you, about us, all night.”

His hands migrated to my back and slid under the top of my suit, his hands softly kneading my breasts, fingers barely pinching my nipples and bringing them to a peak as he rolled them. His kisses became more insistent, more passionate. “Is this alright?” he mumbled.

I barely had enough wherewithal to nod, much less answer coherently. My hands slid down his backside and it was only then I realized he was wearing nothing under his towel. “No shorts?” I gasped. 

He chuckled. “I wasn't expecting anyone here.” 

As I glanced down, I could see the telltale rise of the towel. I smiled. “Why, Mr. Hiddleston, are you happy to see me?” I asked flirtatiously batting my eyes at him.

“You could say that,” he growled in his Loki voice. In an instant, his hands had slid down my suit bottoms and slid them down my legs and onto the floor, and he was kissing me fervently.

“What if we get caught?” I worried.

He untucked his towel and grasped my hips, lifting me up and setting me down straddling him. “So what?”

His cock was right at my entrance, teasing me, poking only slightly into my wet heat. “You are quite the exhibitionist,” I mused as he leaned me back and thrust into me.

The euphoria was immediate. I was so turned on and frustrated after the encounter with my husband that this was the sexual equivalent of a heroin addict's ultimate fix. As he filled me, I keened, every nerve ending suddenly raw and exploding. I was completely overtaken by him, by this. It was a heady combination, a chalice of absolute indulgence from which I was completely drunk before having consumed its entirety. My very being was electric, tingling with every touch, every thrust, and I pumped against him, matching his rhythm. My voice strained with each movement, mewls becoming moans, evolving to broken screams as I was wracked by paroxysm, engulfed and undulating.

My walls closed around him, bringing him closer to his own climax and before long, we were both breathless and rolling with each other, transformed into liquid metal as the waves of orgasm washed over us. 

There was a knock on the sauna door and we froze, unable to see through the steam-covered door who was interrupting our moment. I flew off of Tom, quickly grabbing my suit bottoms and putting them on. “Hello?” I called.

Tom was fussing with his towel, trying his best to arrange it around himself to hide his softening erection.

The door opened slightly just as I sat down in the corner on the furthest side from Tom. “Are you in here?” It was my husband. He entered and let his eyes focus before zeroing in on me. “Oh, here you are.”

I waved. “Hi, honey.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tom smirk. “Look who I ran into?” I pointed at Tom, who stood to shake his hand. 

“Hello, I'm Tom Hiddleston,” he introduced cordially before sitting back down on the bench.

My husband's eyes widened. “I hope my wife hasn't been bugging you too much,” he apologized. “She loves you. One of your biggest fans, in fact.” he said earnestly before sitting down and slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me clumsily into him.

“So I've gathered,” Tom answered. “And she's been quite pleasant company.” He smiled, but it contained a subtle trace of annoyance.

“What brings you here, honey?” I asked sweetly. “You were asleep.”

My husband shrugged. “You were gone for too long. I wanted to make sure your were alright.” His demeanor darkened. “I hoped nothing had happened to you.”

“My good man,” Tom interjected, “She's been in most capable hands, I assure you.” 

I shot Tom a look that said he wasn't helping. “I'm fine,” I answered. “In fact, I'm completely relaxed and ready to go to sleep now. We've got a big day tomorrow, right?”

He stood and looked at Tom menacingly. “We do.” Grabbing me by the forearm, he pulled me off the bench roughly and headed towards the door.

“Ow!” I protested. “At least let me say goodbye to Mr. Hiddleston.”

“Alright.” My husband begrudgingly let go of my arm and I went to Tom. “Thank you,” I whispered as I gave him a small hug. 

“Remember, Room 657,” he answered. “Any time you need me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this chapter, just lots of drama and feels... I'll get back to the smut in the next chapter, I promise.

I slept fitfully, tossing and turning all night, much to the chagrin of my husband. He coped by consuming more of the beer we had stocked in the mini-fridge and combining it with a healthy dose of Tylenol PM. In no time, he was snoring like a bear next to me while my mind raced and my body ached for Tom.

All I could do was think about the years I had been married, the drinking, the fighting, the lack of general concern that had blanked the last few years until we were both completely apathetic. Though neither of us could admit it, we were relieved when our friends agreed to come along because it meant that we wouldn't have to interact nearly as much and, given that they were sharing a room with us, intimacy was nearly impossible. I felt like a mirror had been brought in front of me, reflecting things that I was not ready to fully see, until Tom. How one day in another man's arms could make me feel that way baffled me. All I knew is that I relished it and I welcomed the coming of the new day more than I ever had.

Day 2 at the Con had been designated cosplay day. When we had first decided to go, my husband insisted that we be villains and chose Harvey Dent (Two-Face) for himself and Poison Ivy for me. We bought all the necessary items for our costumes, mine being quite a bit more revealing than his and I felt self-conscious about them at first, but now, it felt freeing. I was no longer the mousy wife. I was a goddess, a baddie, and I looked good.

I felt looks of appreciation as we made our way through the hotel lobby and down the street to the Convention Center. Where I had previously shied away from anything like that, now I felt empowered. I flaunted it. “Would you stop?” my husband grumbled in embarrassment.

“I'm just having fun,” I answered. And I was. I was having an absolute blast. I strutted my stuff as we waited in line to get in, and continued doing it as we made our way around the vendor floor. I was bent over a table looking at a pin when my cell phone buzzed. It had been so quiet for the entirety of our trip, I almost felt like I didn't have it. It surprised me enough that I jumped and grinned sheepishly as I retrieved it from my purse. 

“Who's texting you?” my husband rolled his eyes. “It better not be work. Don't they know you're on vacation?”

“No, it's just my sister,” I lied when I looked at the screen. It was really Tom. “She wants to know if we're coming down for the birthday party next week.”

“Oh, well, by all means, answer her,” he said snidely as I left him at the table and wound my way through the crowd towards the open area in front of the bathrooms.

“Where are you at?” Tom's text read.

I typed in my answer. “Second floor, vendor booths, bathrooms on the west end.”

“Be right there.” He couldn't be serious. We had come close enough to getting caught the night before, I really didn't relish the thought of a public confrontation.

I hemmed and hawed, fiddling with my phone and pretended that I was still holding a conversation with my sister, just in case my husband came looking for me. Glancing around, I didn't see either of them and I sighed in relief as I put my phone away. 

I wondered how long Tom meant for me to wait for him when I was approached by a tall man in an Obi-Wan Kenobi cloak. “Excuse me, Darling,” he said, his voice low. “You look like a very bad girl.”

“Tom!” I gasped, smacking him on the arm. “I don't know if this is such a good idea. My husband is right over there.” Just as I pointed to the table where my husband was browsing, he looked in my direction and waved. I waved back out of instinct. “He might get suspicious.”

I glanced up in time to see Tom stick his lower lip out in a mock pout. “I thought you said I was your free pass.” He stood with his hands akimbo and leaned over me.

“That was supposed to be for one night,” I sighed. “Any more than that and I'm guilty of cheating.” I tried hard to restrain myself from kissing him there, regardless of the consequences.

Tom reached down and grasped my chin with a crooked finger. “You're not guilty of anything,” he whispered, his face dangerously close to me. “Except maybe wanting what you want. There's nothing wrong with that.”

“Except that I'm married.” I backed away from him, hoping he wouldn't see the fright in my eyes and mistake that it was for him. “I've got to go.” I turned and raced back to my husband, who was blind to the whole scene. When I looked back to where I had been standing, Tom was already gone. I could see his hood bobbing as he strode through the crowd. Away from me.

My husband looked at me quizzically. “You look weird,” he said. “Are you feeling alright?”

“No,” I answered. “I need to go.” I covered my mouth, feigning vomit, when in reality, I felt like my heart might fly out of my mouth. Blindly, I ran into the crowd, following in the direction I had seen Tom go. At that moment, I ceased caring for whoever should see us. He was right. I wanted what I wanted. And I wanted him. Tears filled my eyes, my voice broken as I shouted, “Tom!” I hoped he could hear me above the din of the crowd. As I wove my way through the people, blinded, grasping for him, I felt a hand on my shoulder. 

I looked up and there he was. His hood had fallen and his eyes were wet as well. “Oh, my Darling,” he said as he picked me up and swung me around, his face in my hair, his breath warm against my neck. “I thought I'd lost you.”

A smattering of applause erupted around us as he let me down and kissed me. I closed my eyes and absorbed the moment, and, for the minute, it seemed like we were the only ones in the world. Until I heard a shocked gasp from the crowd. I opened my eyes and turned my head to see my husband there, mouth agape. He looked disappointed, lost. “How could you?” he mouthed as his shoulders slumped.

I loosened myself from Tom's arms and took a step away. “I'm sorry, Honey,” I said softly. It was all I could say. Except the only thing I was sorry for was that he had to find out this way. 

Tom's hand slid into mine. “Come on,” he whispered in my ear. He tugged at me, encouraging me to leave.

“Wait,” I said, turning my eyes upon him and silently pleading. He nodded and I went to my husband. “Listen,” I explained, “We both know this is something that has been going to happen. We haven't been happy for a while.”

“Can we at least spend the rest of the Con together?” He was grasping at straws. Anything to keep me in his life. “What about Amy and Craig?” He seemed to hope that bringing our friends into the conversation would somehow make me want to stay.

I looked at the ceiling, a million thoughts rotating around my head. “I'm sure they will manage.” 

He seemed defeated. “He was supposed to be your free pass, nothing was supposed to happen.” 

“I'm sorry,” I answered. “I can't do this anymore.” I retreated into Tom's waiting arms and we disappeared into the crowd. Once we had escaped the mayhem into a quiet room beyond the public areas, I breathed a sigh of relief. “I can't believe that just happened.”

Tom embraced me, his kisses hot against my skin. “Tell me this is more than just a free pass now.”  
He nuzzled my neck, his hands holding my hips, pulling me into him.

“I'm still in shock.” I pulled myself from him despite the heat that was building inside me and sat down on a chair near a window. Looking outside at the overcast skies, I groaned, “Ten years of marriage gone down the tubes.” I glanced at Tom. He had sat down on the opposite side of the room, legs apart, elbows rested on his knees, head rested in his hands. My heart flip-flopped. Tenderly, I said, “Tom, you are definitely more than just my free pass.”

He looked up at me, focused his eyes on me. “You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say that.” 

I stood up and went to him. “I know we've really only just met, but I feel like I've known you forever,” I said tearfully. “That's why it hurts me to say this...”

His eyes searched mine. “Say what?”

“I need some time. For God's sake, I just left my husband.” Tears ran out of my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I was afraid that this would be it with Tom as well. How could he want someone as confused and as broken as I was?

Tom took my hands in his and grasped them, squeezing them lightly. “You take as long as you need, Darling,” he said quietly. “I'll be waiting for you.”

I leaned in and kissed him deeply. “Thank you for understanding.”

“What are you going to do for the rest of the day?” he asked. “Because if you are staying at the convention, I would love to be your escort.”

“Completely platonic for the day?” I smiled for what seemed the first time in the day.

He nodded and smiled back. “If that's what you would like.”

He stood and we left the room, advancing back out to the convention floor, making our way through the throngs of fans. Tom maintained his Obi-Wan costume simply to retain his anonymity. I bought a pair of sweats and a Princess Leia shirt from one of the booths and changed in the bathroom, relegating my Poison Ivy costume to a bag that we stowed in the back. 

We spent the rest of the day enjoying ourselves and avoiding my friends and my husband, preferring to visit the panels and meeting up with people Tom knew. And we had a blast. I had more fun than I imagined I ever would and Tom was the perfect gentleman, guiding me through the crowds, making sure he was within my sightline at all times. 

By the time evening rolled around, we were exhausted. “Would you like to get some dinner?” Tom asked as we left the Convention Center and headed for the hotel. 

“Yeah, I'm starved.” I leaned onto his shoulder and grabbed his hand. “Thank you for a wonderful second half of my day, Tom.”

He grinned. “Well, you're very welcome.” He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “I'm glad I had a part in making your day happier.”

After we put our things from the convention in our rooms, we hailed a cab and as we got in, he asked, “What do you feel like eating.”

I leaned back on his arm that he had draped over my shoulders. “I'm dying for some good sushi.”

“It sounds wonderful,” he grinned. He leaned forward and asked the driver to take us to the best sushi place he knew of, then sat back and leaned into me. “Mmmmm,” he hummed, “Where are you going to stay tonight?”

I sighed. “I don't know. I may just sleep on the couch in my room.” The truth was, I really hadn't thought about it. I had made the decision to not think about it the whole afternoon and now it was something I needed to face.

Tom looked concerned. “Will you be alright?”

“I'll be fine. I'm a big girl.” I hoped my smile was more convincing than it felt.

We arrived at the sushi place within minutes, so quickly, it actually was within walking distance. Tom helped me out of the cab and paid the driver before grasping my elbow and escorting me in. It was a little hole-in-the-wall place, family run, not crowded at all. We were seated in a little booth in the corner and ordered a few different rolls. When our order came, we took turns feeding sushi to each other with chop sticks and drinking swigs of hot tea with sake until we were stuffed and happily buzzed. 

As we sat in the dark booth letting our food settle, Tom leaned over and kissed me again. This time, I didn't push him away. I opened my mouth and let his tongue slide against mine, let his lips smash against mine until we were raw. His hand rested on my leg and slowly made it up my thigh, coming to rest at the top, just next to my heat. “Let's go back to the hotel,” I suggested.

“Alright,” he answered. 

Tom and I decided to walk back the few blocks to our hotel, the whole time talking about our pasts, our interests, occasionally stopping to lean against a building or a tree to kiss. About halfway there, it started to rain. It wasn't the drizzle I was used to at home, nor was it the rain Tom was used to. It was a heavy, cleansing rain, the kind that drums the very impurities from your soul. Rather than yelping and ducking under the nearest awnings to try and avoid it, we danced in it, he picked me up in his arms, lips crashing into each other and swung me around in it. It was a baptism of sorts. 

We arrived back at our hotel feeling refreshed, invigorated, completely rejuvenated. As we walked into the lobby in the rain, we rung the water out from our clothes so we wouldn't drip as we walked across the marble floors. “I'll escort you to your room,” Tom volunteered. “Just in case.”

I shook my head. “You better not,” I answered. “I don't want there to be a confrontation. At least not more of one than happened earlier.”

He shrugged. “How about I wait in the hallway for you? I just want to make sure you're safe.”

“Alright,” I smiled. Tom made me feel safe just by his being there.

I pulled him into the elevator when the doors opened and wrapped my arms around his neck, lacing my fingers behind his head, tangling them in his hair. We stood forehead to forehead staring into each others souls. “I can't believe my luck,” he whispered. “I never dreamed I would meet a woman like you.”

I closed my eyes. “You're not the lucky one,” I whispered. 

The door to the elevator opened to my floor. I let go of him and grasped his hand, pulling him down the hallway behind me. He leaned against the wall as I retrieved my card key from my purse and swiped it through the slot on the door. When the light on the door turned green, I opened it. The room inside was dark, but I could hear the telltale breaths of someone sleeping. I turned around and held a finger up over my lips, shushing Tom before the door closed behind me.

As I tiptoed through the room, a figure in the bed rolled over. My eyes adjusted to the little bit of moonlight that streamed through a crack in curtains. I glanced over to the bed and had to clap my hand over my mouth. My heart dropped and my breath escaped. My husband was there, along with my best friend. A slight cry escaped from me and they both woke up and sat upright. “I'm just getting my things,” I gasped. 

“This isn't what it looks like,” she said calmly wrapping the sheets to cover her nakedness. 

Angrily, I snapped, “Really, Amy? How long has this been going on? Because what it looks like, you are fucking my husband.” I threw open the drawers of the bureau and pulled my clothes out, stuffing them into my roll away suitcase. “What about Craig?”

“Craig knows,” my husband answered. “It's been going on for about six months now.” He was so matter-of-fact, I wasn't sure if he was exaggerating to hurt me or being truthful.

“You asshole!” I screamed. I picked up the hotel phone from the desk near me, yanked the cord out of the wall and hurled it at him. “I'm glad I'm leaving you.”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Amy said snidely. “Good luck with that. You can't trust those Hollywood types. I bet he'll cheat on you, too.”

Seething, I leaped at her, my hands clawing her face. My husband got out of the bed as we tore at each other, grabbing handfuls of hair, biting, scratching, punching. There was a knock on the door and he opened it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tom come in. As I fought Amy, I felt his cool hands on my shoulders. “Darling, let's go” he said. 

He pulled me away from her, my chest heaving because I was out of breath and furious. “It's been going on for months,” I gasped as he picked up my suitcase and pulled me out into the hallway. “I never imagined that was happening.” He pulled me to him and I collapsed against his chest. I was too emotionally drained to cry.

“I'm so sorry,” he coddled. “Come stay with me.”

All I could do was nod. Tom led me back to the elevator, pulling my suitcase along behind us and, silently, we rode up to Tom's floor. When we got to his room, he helped me put away my clothes, making room in his bureau for me. “I feel like taking a shower,” I sighed as we finished.

“Alright.” Tom followed me into the bathroom and helped peel my wet clothes off. “Shall I join you?” he asked before undressing.

“You can,” I answered. I turned the water on and climbed in, closing the curtain behind me while he undressed. The water was scalding hot, just the way I liked it, hot enough to leave trails of red down my skin. I dipped my head under the spray and held myself up against the wall as I breathed in the steam.

Tom climbed in behind me. “Oh my God it's hot in here,” he exclaimed as the water hit him. “Are you trying to scald your skin off?”

“Maybe.” I stood straight and turned towards him. “It's cathartic.”

He held his arms out. “I'm sorry you had to find that out in that way.” 

I nodded and he embraced me, his arms engulfing me. “I don't know if you should stay with me, Tom, I'm damaged, I've got loads of baggage. My life is seriously fucked up right now.”

Tom laughed. “I've been there. I know it's not fun.”

Eyes widened, I stared up at him. “You've been there? You? Cheated on?”

“Yep. And it was devastating.” He let go of me and pumped some shower gel into his hands. “Now turn around and let me wash you.” His voice was low and his eyes were hooded. He licked his lips and smiled.

I turned around. His hands started by rubbing the gel on my back, slowly, softly, before making their way around front, slipping over my breasts, running down my navel and then down and around my legs, completely avoiding my sex. I groaned when he was done. “More?”

He laughed again. “Let's get you rinsed off.” He lightly pushed me under the shower spray and his hands traced the exact same path they had taken before, except this time, they lingered longer at my breasts. His lips fluttered on the back of my neck and I felt his tongue flick at my earlobe. “Is this alright?”

I wanted to, I was turned on, but I was physically and emotionally tired. “Yes,” I answered, “But I am so tired right now. It's been an emotional night.”

“I understand,” he said. “Let's dry you off and go to sleep.”

“Okay.” I stepped out of the shower as Tom grabbed a plush towel and wrapped it around me. I snuggled into it, rubbing it along my skin while he got a towel for himself and got out of the shower. When I was dry enough, I hung my towel up and went into the bedroom area. Tom had pulled the covers down already. I laid down and pulled them around me. He got into bed behind me, as naked as I was and curled up spooning me, his arm wrapped around me. I cuddled into him and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, finally at peace.


	4. Chapter 4

It was still slightly dark when I awoke, the first few rays of sunlight just beginning to peek over the horizon and spill through the windows in the room. I stretched and rolled onto my side, letting my eyes adjust to the filtered light. There was a distinct coolness to the air, almost like someone had left the air conditioner on just a little too long or turned it up a little too much. My arm snaked over to the other side of the bed and I realized what had woken me. Tom was gone, his side of the bed already cooled. I sat up and looked around for any clue as to where he had gone, the lump in my throat telling me I foolishly let the situation get the better of me and that little voice in my head telling me he left because I wasn't good enough and who would want someone as damaged as I was. Tears began to spill out of my eyes, hot on my cheeks, cooling as they rolled down and hit the skin of my breasts.

As I got out of bed, I spied it, the note on the desk. I picked it up, dreading what it said, curious to what he had written, but hoping that it wasn't what I thought it was. I turned the light on and sat on the end of the bed. My fingers trembling, I opened it. 

“My Darling,  
I've gone for a run. I didn't want to wake you because you were   
sleeping so soundly, so I figured I would leave you this note  
just in case you woke before I returned. I should be back soon  
and I plan on bringing you breakfast.  
Love,   
Tom”

I breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't left me. I felt bad for even thinking it. My husband had screwed up my emotional response to things so badly for so long, I didn't trust them any more. Shivering, I rummaged through the drawer to find something to snuggle up in before he returned. I found one of his t shirts, a thin, blue one, v-neck, the one he had worn the day before. I buried my nose in it and inhaled his scent before pulling it on. This was where the difference in height really showed. Where it was just about hip-length on Tom, it came down to my knees. I climbed back into bed, covered with the blankets and grabbed my tablet from my bag so I could read my book in the morning solace.

When Tom got back, I was so far into my book that I didn't even hear him enter the room. He was preceded by the cinnamon scent of cinnamon rolls and the sharp smell of coffee. “Ah, you're awake,” he grinned. “Did you find my note?”

I looked up to see him standing there, white t shirt, hoodie, sweats, bearing a large Cinnabon box and two cups of Starbucks. “That note scared the hell out of me,” I said flatly. “I thought you'd left.”

He looked alarmed as he set the food and drinks down on the desk. “I'm so sorry,” he gasped, “I didn't even think you'd take it that way. I didn't want you to worry.” In moments, I was in his arms, embraced by him, his face in my hair. 

I sighed. “It's okay. I'm just a bit fucked up emotionally right now.” 

Tom seemed relieved as he let me go. “Next time, I'll wake you up,” he answered devilishly.

I covered my face with my hands and groaned. “Don't tell me you're always this cheerful in the morning.”

“Generally, yes,” he replied. “Now, let's eat before the food gets cold.” He opened up the box and brought it over to me with a cup of coffee while I put my tablet away. “Fork is in the box.” 

I nodded and dug in. “Oh, this is Heaven,” I exclaimed in between mouthfuls. “You're gonna make me fat!”

“I like a woman with some curves,” he answered, shoving another bite into his own mouth.

I wasn't aware of being particularly hungry, but I must have been because I inhaled that cinnamon roll. Tom was done with his just as I polished off my coffee. “What's with the Starbucks?” I asked after my last gulp. “I thought you Brits were all about tea?”

He chuckled after he swallowed his last bite, then picked up his cup and held it in the air. “When in Rome...” He took a huge swig of coffee, gulping it heartily. I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as the liquid went down his throat. 

When he was done, he put his cup on the nightstand next to mine. “What shall we do next?” he asked as he took his hoodie and shoes off. His t shirt was soaked with sweat. 

“I have a few ideas,” I said, running my handover his chest. 

As I looked up at him, he smiled. “I thought you wanted to take this slowly.”

I couldn't resist using one of his own movie lines on him. As I sat up on my knees in front of him, I grasped his shoulders, leaned into his ears and whispered, “Slowly, intimately.” 

He turned his head and growled, “This is my bargain...” He grasped me around the waist, pulling me close to him with a violent need and smashed his mouth against mine, our lips working against each other in tandem while our tongues held in the soft caresses. I couldn't fight against him and I wouldn't. He knew exactly what I wanted and what I needed and I was helpless. 

Tom released me and realized I was wearing his shirt. He raised an eyebrow as he peeled it off of me. “Did you run out of clothes?” he asked, suddenly concerned. 

Sheepishly, I admitted, “I was cold and it smelled like you.”

Smiling, he pulled his own shirt off and pulled me close again. “This pleases me,” his voice rumbled as he leaned into my neck. His tongue flicked at my skin, leaving a cool trail of his saliva along my vein. I sighed and ran my hands down his sides into the waistband of his sweat pants and boxers and over his ass. I squeezed. He snorted before laughing, “Do you have a mewling quim?”

I groaned. “God, Tom!” I pulled my hand back out and smacked his arm. “Way to interrupt the moment.” 

He giggled. “Sorry, couldn't resist.” 

Smiling mischievously, I slid my hand down the front of his pants and grasped his already erect cock. “Seems my Loki has a Mjolnir in his pants,” I laughed.

He puffed up his chest. “Why, yes, I do,” he announced proudly. 

I circled my thumb and index finger around his shaft and pumped him. “I think,” I whispered, “I would like Mjolnir to teach me a lesson.” He closed his eyes and a moan escaped. I worked him, my fingers circling him, the others dancing along his shaft on the upstroke, lightly brushing against his balls on the downstroke. I leaned in and kissed him deeply and his hands found my breasts. His fingers began working my nipples, pinching, pulling, rolling them until they were nothing more than rosy pebbles. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes as one hand migrated down, sweeping against my stomach and finding the heat between my legs. I gasped as he slid one finger into me, pressing his palm against my mound, teasing my clit with the pressure. I arched my back and thrust my hips towards him, trying to rub myself against him. 

“Oh, you feel so ready,” he growled, adding a finger into my wetness and thrusting them into my depths. 

“I am,” I answered, my voice thick with lust. His cock had become rock hard and twitched each time I bushed my fingers over the tip. “Fuck me, Tom.”

He laughed, a low, growling laugh. “Say my name.”

I leaned close and nibbled on his ear. “Tom.”

“I don't know who this Tom is you speak of.” He groaned and I could tell he was reaching his peak.

I pulled my hands away and laid down on the bed, knees up, spread open for him, his fingers still inside me. “Loki.”

He pulled his fingers from me and dipped his head down, his tongue lapping at my clit, making my hips rise up against him. He swirled it around, flicked it, delved further into my depths. “You taste divine,” he hissed. I felt his teeth grasp my nub and scrape gently along it before his lips suckled it. Each touch sent a jolt of fire through me until I was covered in sweat, my body threatening to spontaneously combust. 

“Fuck me, just fuck me!” I yelped.

He slid over the top of me, his bare chest as slippery and sweaty as my own. “Is this what you demand of your king?” he asked in a low, rumbling voice. 

I slid my hands into his waistband and pulled his pants and boxers down around his hips. His manhood pressed against my entrance. “Yes,” I said, my ragged voice barely a whisper. “Fuck me, Loki.”

With an evil grin, he shimmied the rest of the way out of his pants and pulled his socks off. He thrust into me, filling me immediately with his entirety. I dug my nails into his back, arching my back, gasping as I adjusted to him. I arched my back, pressing my breasts into his chest, while he grasped my ass and pulled me into him. Slowly, he pulled himself out, seemingly savoring the moment, feeling each and every bit inside me as I could feel every inch of him. His tongue lapped at the hollow of my throat as he drove into me again, more forceful this time, into my very depths. He pulled out again, each movement maddeningly inciting my orgasm, yet making it seem so out of reach. I keened as he slammed back into me. “Is this how you want to be fucked?” he growled.

“Yes,” I moaned. 

He grinned, that same carnivorous grin as he rolled over and pulled me with him until I was kneeling, my own weight bearing down on his cock. The feeling was immediately intense, all those raw nerve endings and synapses firing at once. I began to rock, undulating my hips against his, my arms on either side of him, barely holding me up. He grasped my hips, his hands massaging them, pulling me further down onto him at once and then pushing me away, until he sat me up. He brought one hand around front and plunged his thumb between us, finding the sensitive ball of nerves that were already raw from his previous attentions. He swirled it around, finding the exact position that made my hips buck and then began massaging it, swirling it as I rode him. His touch was electric. Within seconds I was wracked with spasms of pure gratification, my every muscle writhing. My voice was as raw as everything else and I could only manage cries of passion with a broken scream.

My walls clenched around him, pulling him with me, until he could do nothing but pull me close to him, thrust inside me and grunt with his own approval. I felt him twitch and then the hot explosion of his own release as he growled, “Oh fuck,” in my ear.

He held me there for what was an eternity, yet no time at all, just our bodies against each other, savoring our release, before he let me go. I slid off of him and laid beside him, my arm draped over his chest, my leg slung over his leg. “Thank you,” I whispered as I kissed his chest.

“What for?” he asked, his fingers absently tracing circles on the small of my back.

“For saving me.” I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent. “I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here.”

He reached over and grasped the tip of my chin with his finger, pulling my face upwards. I opened my eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Who knows how long that would have been going on...” I pulled my chin from his grasp and kissed his chest again. “I may have found out and done something rash.”

Tom rolled on his side. His eyes were deep, serious. “Listen to me. You are a woman worth fighting for. Don't let anyone tell you you're not worth it. He's a chump. He didn't know what he had and he gave it up.”

I had tears in my eyes. “I probably would have killed myself, if I didn't have you.”

Tom wiped a tear from my cheek. “You're mine now, right?”

I nodded. “If you don't mind having someone as damaged as I am.”

“We all have scars,” he answered, “Some are just more visible than others.” 

I burrowed my face into the curve between his neck and his shoulder and sobbed while he held me. He didn't try to stop my tears, he just let me be until they had dried up. When I was done crying, he handed me a tissue from the nightstand. “Better?”

“Yeah.” I sniffled into the kleenex. “Did you mean that?”

“Mean what?” he kissed the tip of my red nose.

“That I'm yours?” I sat up and then leaned my arms down on his chest.

“If you'll have me,” he smiled. It warmed me from the inside out completely.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to update... my creativeness has been channeled elsewhere *cough*Oakley*
> 
> This was only meant to be a short piece, so this is the last chapter.

I managed to avoid my husband and our friends for the remainder of the convention, preferring to remain with Tom sight seeing, visiting places we'd heard about. We felt like a couple on our honeymoon, though it wasn't anything like that. My husband made a few attempts to call my cell phone, but I let them go to voice mail and he never left a message. "You really should talk with him," Tom had suggested. "I don't want to have you regret not getting everything out there."

"I don't want to," I had answered. I felt like a child being scolded at that moment and let it be known, so Tom had given up, letting me handle things in my own time.

The day after the last day of Comic Con, the hotel was bustling with people leaving. Tom wasn't scheduled to leave yet, having had plans to meet with people for his next project, so we stayed holed up in his room, preferring to avoid the crowds. Room service provided plenty of food, but we reached the inevitable point in the day where food, sex and television were not enough to hold our interest. "Let's go out," I suggested. "At least for the evening."

"What would you like to do?" he asked, yawning and stretching out on the bed. 

"Maybe go out dancing?" I shot a glance in his direction just to see what kind of reaction I got.

Tom's eyes lit up. "Mmmm, dancing," he purred as he rolled on his side and kissed my shoulder. "I could definitely go for that." He wrapped his arm around my waist. "Have you got something to wear for that, or do we need to go shopping?"

I furrowed my brow and thought for a moment. "Jeans and a t-shirt?" I considered out loud.

He shook his head. "That will never do," he chuckled. "Not that I don't love you in jeans and a t-shirt," he backtracked, "But I'm planning on dressing the part and I think you, as my girl, should as well." His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled at me. Coming from any other man, it might have sounded possessive. Not so much from Tom.

We got out of bed, showered, got dressed and left the room, hoping we would avoid the throngs of convention-goers that were leaving the hotel as we headed down to the lobby in the elevator. Tom held his arms around me, kissing the top of my head, he sighed, "I'm sorry if that sounded a bit overbearing up there."

"It was fine," I responded as I turned to wrap my arms around him and kiss his chest. I smiled up at him. "You, know, after all I've been through with my husband, it feels nice to have someone like you claim me."

He flinched at the mention of my husband. I could tell he wanted to say something about it, but he restrained himself and managed to only mumble, "Husband," under his breath before the elevator reached its destination. "We're here," he said brightly. I was still watching him, gauging his reaction, his face as he changed the subject. Just as the doors opened, he leaned down and kissed me, pulling me into him. I closed my eyes and let him draw me in, concentrated on the feeling of his lips against mine, his arms as he held me. At that moment, there were only the two of us in the world.

"Fuck! It would be this car," I heard from behind me. Tom quit kissing me and I saw his face draw into a masque of concern, so I turned around. Standing there, waiting for the elevator, were my husband and former best friend. 

I took a second to compose myself, still in disbelief that they had been hooking up for months before I'd met Tom, that I'd been cheated on, and I had been the one worried about the fallout from my tryst with Tom. Taking a deep breath, I greeted, "Hello, Dan." None of us were smiling.

"I see you're still with him," he answered, nearly spitting the words out. He was addressing me, but the vitriol of his glare was directed at Tom. "How's it feel to be fucking my wife?"

For a moment, I was sure Tom was going to retaliate, somehow. As I glanced up at him, I saw a fire grow in his eyes and I felt the hands that had been rested on my sides ball into fists. "I believe you two have some talking to do," he responded, his voice strained. Leaning closer to my ear, he whispered, "Darling, please take care of this." He kissed me on the cheek before exiting the elevator, leaving me face to face with Dan and Amy.

"He does have a point," I shrugged. I edged my way between them and headed towards a stand of benches. "We should talk. There's a lot we need to get out." 

Silently, they followed me and sat down opposite me. They held hands and I had a brief feeling of abandonment, wishing Tom had stayed with me. "I'm so sorry it had to come out this way," Amy began. 

I shot a look of complete hate at her. "I'm sure you never meant it to come out at all, Amy," I grumbled. "You and I are no longer on friendly terms. I, personally, don't care if you rot in Hell." I looked at Dan, who looked like he was in complete shock. "You, however, have a lot of accountability here," I accused. "Why did you feel the need to cheat on me? What was it about me that made it so hard for you to be faithful?"

Sheepishly, he replied, "It wasn't you, it was me."

"Bullshit!" I yelled. "I gave you everything. I supported you when you wanted to go to school. I supported you when you wanted to start your own business. What else did you need?"

"I needed someone to have fun with," he answered quietly. "You were my rock, but it felt like all the fun went out of our marriage after I got out of school. I had to worry about what you'd think about everything and when things didn't go according to plan, you were all over me. With Amy, I found I could relax." He sat back, crossing his arms, a smug look on his face, sure that he had dug the knife in good and deep.

I saw both Dan and Amy look up at the same time as I felt Tom behind me, his hands reaching out to rest on my shoulders. "Is everything alright, Darling?" he asked as he sat down next to me and grasped my hands. 

Nodding, I became aware that my face was wet. The tears had come out almost of their own volition as Dan had spoken. "That was low," I choked. "But," I said as I drew in a sharp breath, "Now I know. And, I know what I need to do." I closed my eyes for a second, focusing my thoughts, then opened them. "Dan, I'm not going home with you. I want a divorce."

Dan nodded his head. "I knew you were going to say that," he replied calmly. "And I won't fight it. I am as much to blame as you are."

"I'm glad to hear that." I glanced at Amy, who cowered next to him. "Amy, you have as much blame on your shoulders for ruining my marriage as Dan does." I gave her an icy glare.

In an act of courage, she shot back, "Well, you're not so pristine yourself, Miss 'I Hooked Up With A Movie Star.' You think you're so high and mighty, but I will have something you never did." She placed her hand on her belly and finished with, "Dan's baby." She leaned her head onto Dan's shoulder with a smug look on her face.

The air in our area was palpable, thick with emotion, ready to cut with the knife that had been shoved in and twisted around in my back. I gave Dan a worried glance and all he could do was nod. "How long have you known about this?" I asked, feeling like I had been punched in the gut, my voice barely more than a hiss. "How long?"

"Three months," he answered. "We've known for three months. She's four months along."

I squeezed Tom's hands to keep the tears at bay. "How long did you think you had until I noticed?" I choked. The two of them remained silent, sharing alarmed glances at each other. Their lack of response began a fire in my belly that grew into a rage. "You asshole," I seethed. "I loved you, I supported you, I ..." my voice trailed off. In an instant of anger, I pulled my wedding ring from my finger and hurled it at him. "Here's what I think of you now!" I screamed. 

Tom stood and pulled me with him, holding me as I shook. "Let's go, Love," he soothed. "I think you've said all you need to." I could only nod and sniffle into his shirt. 

We got outside and he pulled me around the corner of the building. "I'm so, so sorry," he gushed. "I shouldn't have made you face that."

"No," I sighed, "I needed to."

He grasped my left hand and traced the lines where my wedding ring had left an indentation. "So, now we're free to see where this goes?"

I smiled as best as I could after the emotional outburst I'd had. "We are."


End file.
